I'll Be Seeing You
by emilio7
Summary: One-shot, Hermione/Sirius, very loosely inspired by The Time Traveler's Wife. "Sometimes she thinks she hates. But, when all that is forgotten, her heart breaks and crumbles to think of the day when he will leave her for months. And then years..."


Title: I'll Be Seeing You

Pairing: Sirius/Hermione

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just let my imagination run wild : )

A/N: This is a one-shot that is very loosely inspired by the Time Traveller's Wife. Also, this kinda disregards DH, but imagine the war ending about the same way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost too good to be true, the timing of it all. Only days after the end of the war, during one of the first quiet afternoons Grimmauld Place had seen in years, an urgent owl was delivered.

Sirius Black was at St. Mungoes. They did not know how and why the Veil had release it's hold on him. But he was alive, and asking for the them.

* * *

They were wrong for each other in every way. Recklessness met practicality. Rebel met by the book. Not mention the now (thanks to Sirius' time spent in the Veil) fifteen year age difference. But that one night, as everyone slept, something rose and broke in the both of them. Something neither had ever felt for another...

_* * *_

_"You're up late..." _

_Hermione jumped and turned from her stance at the counter. It was well past midnight, but nightmares were far from uncommon in this household. Clutching her chest with one hand she turned to see a lone figure in the armchair by the kitchen's hearth, illuminated only by the fire's warm heat. _

_"Sirius! Merlin, you gave me a fright..." she half-chuckled. _

_Sirius only smirked and then continued to stare into nothingness by the fire. Hermione quietly went about preparing her tea, and once finished, sat near the end of the table. From her position she could see half of his profile, the other half immersed in darkness. _

_His dark eyes and hair coupled with his perfect, angular features made for a deadly combination. One could almost describe his appearance as being aristocratic, but his hair was just a smidge longer than it should be and rare was the day when his jaw was free of stubble. The effect, though, was nothing short of devastating. _

_The silence between them was not awkard or uncomfortable. During the weeks that had followed his mysterious return, Sirius found himself more often than not seeking solitude. Except when with her. Remus and Harry were always willing to sit or talk with him, of course, but something about her quiet kindness and sharp mind was so very inviting. At this moment when he studied her, brown curls piled on her head in disarray, skin glowing in the soft light, he realized that she had changed just as much, if not more, than everyone during his absence. Her brilliance and intelligence still shone through, the rays that hit you first upon meeting her, but now they was softened and subdued by a maturity that had not been there as he knew her when she was young. _

_Well, younger than she was now, he thought guiltily._

_She was finished her tea, he noticed, and was now looking sleepily at the fire with him. In that moment of silence, she reached out to place her hand on his knee. An innocent touch of comfort. But what followed was far from innocent. When he would look back on this night, later, he still could not say what made him do it. _

_He took a hand to her open, pretty face, and slowly drew it down to her neck. Softly at first their lips met, but soon a hunger so deep it frightened Hermione, overtook them both. He was like a dehydrated man tasting water for the first time. _

_They drew back for a moment. His hand shook as he grazed her collarbones, and then lower. _

_"Please..." he said so softly even he was unsure if it was spoken. _

_* * *_

He took her roughly and quickly that night, right there on the kitchen table, and again, slowly this time in his bed as they succumbed again to the mutual affection and ardor.

What he expected to follow was guilt, and alot of awkard moments in the morning.

What he hadn't expected was a warmth that filled that empty space in his chest. What he hadn't expected was something, just maybe something, akin to love.

* * *

The first time it happened it was nearly insignificant. No fireworks, no warnings or chiming bells. Like an accidental Apparation gone wrong, Sirius was sitting having breakfast with Remus, Harry, and Hermione. And then he wasn't. Fifteen minutes later he reappeared in the parlor, confused and having no recollection of leaving in the first place.

They passed it off as nothing. He just got back, they said, he still hadn't gotten used to the world he onced belonged in. Magical outbursts were not uncommon in wizards and witches who had gone through traumatic experiences or events. But eventually these incidents became more frequent and answers were sought out by Hermione and the others. Noses were buried in books and papers from the Ministry library, all fingers crossed to find an antidote.

They knew only a few things to begin with, one being that he had returned from the Veil physically just as he had been the moment he fell through the abyss. Two being the terrifying fact that these "trips", these sudden and abrupt haltings in his existence to them only increased in longevity with each episode that followed.

That first morning, fifteen minutes. The next week, three quarters of an hour.

* * *

_Twinkling lights bounced off the reflective balls and baubles on the grand tree in Grimmauld Place's newly furnished sitting room. The once dark and dank room was now aglow with the holidays, soft music playing on the wireless. Ron and Luna danced sweetly, albeit awkardly, behind the furniture near the large fireplace as Ginny and Harry shared a small couch near the tree. Many other guests and family members crowded the warm room, champagne induced laughter and joy filling the space._

_It was times like these she wondered why. Why fall in love with someone so completely only to have them taken from you, slowly and little by little. She sits at her desk every night until the wee hours of the morning, graphing these strange excursions, desperate to find some kind of pattern that won't tell her what she already knows. Researching, and always reading. She has talked to every Unspeakable who has agreed see her, with no avail. _

_And then when he returns every moment is spent with him. Spent talking. Spent discovering. Spent making love. Spent fighting. Spent fucking. A hateful, delicious, sorrowful, wonderful, heartbreaking cycle. This is what her life is now. _

_Another case file to sit untouched in the Department of Mysteries, she sometimes thinks bitterly. _

_Sometimes she thinks she hates him. Sometimes she is so very, very angry. With him. With herself. But mostly, when that is forgotten, her heart breaks and crumbles to think of the day when he will leave her months. And then years. _

_Her painful thoughts are interuppted by a crashing upstairs. He's back, she thinks, and her heart leaps. Many around the room are looking at her expectantly. _

_She knows not all approve of their being together, whether it is the sheer shock of their pairing or the age difference that some cannot condone. But no one, no matter how strong the opposition, would dare to take this time, this valuable and irreplaceable time, from them. It is in their eyes when she joins them in their outings or parties, alone. It is in their voices when they ask how she is. _

_And so she turns out of the room, wine glass still in hand, and travels up the garland laced staircase. She checks each room, searching, and finds him in her own bedroom. He is repairing her lamp which must have been a casuality to his sudden landing back into their time and place. _

_"Hi..." she whispers softly, "Happy Christmas..."_

_He looks up and meets her eyes, his gaze full of relief and adoration, but it is met with a tired and somewhat cold response._

_"Christmas already?" he sighs, picking himself up off the floor and dusting himself off._

_"Love, don't look at me like that. You know we have no control over this. I don't have a choice."_

_"I never had a choice!" she says harshly, her voice raising only slightly, "Do you realize how bad it feels to sit here and wait for you!?"_

_Feeling like a toddler having a tantrum Hermione throws her glass to floor where it shatters into a millions pieces. She stares and starts to weep, because this is what they are, a hundred different shards, a bunch of different pieces that will never be whole, that will never form an entire picture. And she knows in her heart that they derserve to be a work of art. _

_She feels his arms wrap around her and her tears turn into sobs against his chest. She is clutching his jumper so tightly her hands ache, but she will not, cannot, let him go._

_He knows she will always be waiting for him. He wishes he could give her everything she deserves. They will never marry; why waste the time planning and preparing when they never know when they will even see each next. They don't need to make a public declaration or an ever binding promise. She is his and he is hers and that is all that matters to them. Them, and no one else. _

_Casting a silencing charm he sweeps her up into his arms and playfully he throws them both onto her bed. It makes an odd creaking sound and through her drying tears she manages a giggle. _

_She stretches like a cat in her red holiday dress, and he surveys her up and down. Placing a hand on her ankle he slowly pulls down her hose and kisses her inner calf. The other leg comes off swiftly and she haphazardly draws his sweater over his head, making his hair even more dishevelled. He struggles with her dress fastenings and frustrated, vanishes it with a flick of his wand. The snug nature of the garment did not allow for a bra, so she is left in his gaze wearing only some tiny black underwear. He caresses her _

_jaw and kisses her neck, inhaling her scent like a drug. _

_Hermione hurriedly grabs for his belt and, without even taking the time to fully remove it, impatiently pushes his trousers down his hips. He has already made quick work of her underwear, and the moment their bodies are flush against each other she sighs contently and Sirius buries his face in her neck, inhaling her scent like a drug. _

_Nudging her thighs aparts, he settles in between her legs and slowly enters her. Time seems to stand still when they are finally joined. He never feels as whole as he does when he is with her. A murderously patient pace is set, each savouring the moments before their passion and need will overtake them, sending them racing and clamouring for the edge. _

_When that moment does come he is grasping her hips and saying her name, while her knees are clutching around him and her hands are buried in his hair. Pleasure rolls over them in waves, taking them away from the pain and confusion of their circumstances._

_After, when she is lying sated with her back pressed against his chest, she thinks she would give anything to stay here forever. In front of her chest their hands are twined and she softly strokes her thumb over his, and she hears him whisper his love for her as she drifts to sleep._

_* * *_

The next morning she is alone with only the sun's obnoxious light entering the bedroom.

She prepares for another day of work, another day searching for answers, another day without him here with her.

There is no anger as she goes through her daily motions, only an exhaustion that often accompanies her reality. An exhaustion that comes from the never ending cycle of emotions she goes through as she waits and hopes. She knows that he would tell her to leave him if he thought she would, that this isn't healthy for her or her life, her goals, her ambitions. But all she can see is him in her future. Their future. However fleeting it may be.

* * *

He asks for her hand in a dance, one evening when he has just returned. An old song is playing from the record player that somehow ended up in a wizarding house. It is a song that tugs at her memory; maybe her mother played it around the house when she was child.

_"I'll be seeing you...in all the familiar places......"_

She gets lost in their swaying, as they are hardly dancing but clinging to each other in a tight embrace. She knows what they have is far from perfect, and some days she wonders how much long she can go on like this. But they have now, and that is all they can ask for.

_"......I'll find you in the morning sun, and when the night is new_

_I'll be looking at the moon, but I'll be seeing you......"_

A/N: Okay, so I am extremely nervous about this one. This is my first fic in a loooong time and my very first Sirius/Hermione. They have quickly become one of my favorite pairings, though, and this idea would not stop bouncing around in my head. So, constructive criticism totally welcome and hopefully more stories will follow. 


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